Okay, so maybe that isn’t exactly how it happened. I have no doubt that I came long after any self-doubt he might have had about his sexuality, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel as though I played a part in it. Our relationship blossomed my junior year of high school after an accidental introduction via a mutual friend. It took all of two weeks before our shared smiley face texts were replaced with crooked hearts and an endless number of X’s and O’s. After that, for months - on and off - we shared lovey dovey chit chat, mindless adolescent Facebook hacking (note: don’t ever share personal passwords with anyone - EVER) and gag-worthy stories of one another with less-than-amused friends. We finally met in person for the first time at my junior semi-formal and I still remember every waking moment - it had been the greatest night of my life.Īs a first time relationship often does, it made the world a blur of rose-coloured bliss in my eyes. The chubby, short, teenage version of myself whose hair was an awkward length and whose boobs were the size of overgrown cantaloupes finally felt a sense of belonging with a guy who lived 30 minutes away by car and had the anatomical build of a sexy green bean. Life seemed perfect.īut after a couple of months, things got worse.
Our friends got sick of the lovebird mania. Slowly but surely, my little slice of heaven was being reduced to a few crumbs of adolescent mediocrity.